"Ay, in good sooth, sweet lady. Have I not found solace in thy companionship? Do I not at length possess the white rose of friendship?"
"My dear Prince, I am indeed thy true, though humble, friend for ever."
"For ever!" sighed Ulric. "Ah, Christabel, I was so sad before thou camest. Thou hast saved me. I lived in doubt of honest friendship until now."
Ulric gazed into her face. She took up her lute and sang to him, a song of youth and springtime.
Some days afterwards the ship which bore Prince Winfred anchored off the Rose Islands, and for the first time the two Princes met. Winfred, as became a son of the sea, was clothed in a garb of emerald tone, embroidered with shells. His cap was woven of strange sea-flowers. Great was the rejoicing in the Rose Islands over the advent of Prince Winfred. And as time went by great was the happiness of Ulric, for now he had another friend, a youth like unto himself.
Months passed, scarcely making a ripple on the sea of Time. The three companions basked in an eternal sunshine. Sometimes they sailed over the blue water, some
times they sat among the flowers, while Winfred told them tales of his life and home—of strange caverns along the coast, of yellow sand-dunes covered with sea-flowers, of moorlands where purple heather bloomed, of long days passed in fishing, of stress and storms, of a sea that was often stern and angry, with crested waves beating shoreward. Ulric would gaze at his guest in wonder, but Christabel's eyes swam in a mist of tears, and when Winfred's hand touched hers she would tremble. He gazed into her eyes, and understood their meaning. As time went by Winfred grew silent, but each day he looked oftener at Christabel.
The roses withered, and bloomed again. Morning followed evening, hour succeeded hour. One day, as Prince Ulric wandered in the forest, he came suddenly upon his two friends. They did not see him, and he was spell-bound by the picture that met his gaze. Christabel was standing under a rose-bush, her hair falling from beneath a crown of flowers, and at her feet knelt Winfred, with upturned wondrous eyes. They remained long thus, in a blaze of sunlight from no earthly sun.
Ulric stole away, hurt to death. "Alas! I have been deceived," he moaned. "This is friendship, but I have never known it. They have found it; but not I—not I!"